solicited was not for himself but for various political refugees in whom
he was interested. One day the professor happened to meet this
wild-looking creature at our door, and inquired of my father who that
maniac might be. "Oh, he is a Hungarian refugee; a good fellow, I believe.
I have noticed something rather odd in his appearance, but I do not
consider him mad," replied his friend.

Amid such surroundings we grew up. My elder sister, Caroline, had a
notable musical gift, and even as a small child had a fine voice, which
developed into a rich contralto. Our father, always anxious to do his duty
by us, gave her a first-rate musical education, sending her abroad to
study under famous Continental teachers, and at eighteen she made her
first appearance in public, exciting much attention by the powerful
dramatic qualities of her voice. It was evident that her right course was
to go in for operatic singing, and this she did. She continued on the most
affectionate terms with her family, but naturally her pursuit took her
into quite another path of life, and we saw less and less of her as time
went on. This threw my brother and myself more together. There was only a
year's difference between us, and we studied together, walked, talked,
played, and read together--in fact, were inseparable. Raymond was no
ordinary boy. In character and in manners he was very like my father. His
favourite study was physical science in its various branches; mine,
history and sociological subjects. He saw things from the scientific
standpoint, I from the poetical and artistic; but we were both by nature
enthusiastic and dreamers, and sympathised heartily with each other's
views. His ambition was to become a famous explorer; mine, to die on a
scaffold or a barricade, shouting Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.

Our father took a great pride in Raymond, and carefully supervised his
studies. He passed various brilliant examinations, and at eighteen, having